


Cosa Nostra

by SnizzieWizzie



Category: Buzzfeed - Fandom, Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate universe - Mafia, Angst, Blood, Disembowelment, Dry Humping, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, First Aid, Gen, Guns, Gutting, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mafia Initiation, Mafia Initiation Ritual, Minor Character Death, Mob Boss Shane, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Sexual Tension, Shane is kind of a dick, Sleepy Sex, Slow Burn, Torture, Violence, bfu, buzzfeed unsolved - Freeform, hm, honestly i’m excited to introduce the don. the godfather. the boss of all bosses. mr big., i think this got me on a government watch list, ryan is kind of brave, shootout, shyan, sorry fbi agent watching me through my camera, they're both stupid, when i say slow burn i mean it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-04 20:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14027805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnizzieWizzie/pseuds/SnizzieWizzie
Summary: Shane Madej, one of the mob bosses in Unsolved City.Ryan Bergara, wanted by the mafia for more than four counts of murder.-a mob au shyan fic that was inspired by ramblings in a group chat! (they fuck in chapter 7 you’re welcome)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!! my group chat inspired me to write this (and publish it). while it isn’t my first writing thing, it’s the first one i’ve published. any critism/kudos is appreciated!

“Boss,” Eugene began, drawing Shane’s attention back to him. “I think someone’s in the clubhouse.” He shifted in his grey suit, trapping his lip between his teeth as he waited on his boss’s instructions. “Really?” Shane didn’t seem too worried, almost..giddy, as he stared Eugene down with a grin. “Yeah, the uh, motion sensors were ‘tected.” The boys around the poker table paused, eyes flying up to Shane’s face to gauge the man’s reaction. “Well, I guess we take care of it, huh? Grabs the sticks.” Shane said, nodding towards the guns lining the wall. 

The group grabbed their weapons, following Shane throughout the corridors of their warehouse. The man in front swaggered, almost laughably confident. He paused when he heard a scuffling from the next hallway, swinging his hand up in silence and gesturing for the men to halt. He hoisted his gun up in his hands, cocking back the hammer, and stepped around the corner. 

Shane’s eyes fell on the source of what the shuffling was, and he laughed. It was a short man, who was suddenly aware of Shane’s presence, and seemed nervous. Not so much scared, that is, until he saw the mob of armed men behind Shane. He dropped his own gun, a small pistol, and his hands shot up to the air. Shane checked him out, eyes dragging over the creases of the man’s outfit, searching for the imprint of a gun tucked into his waistband or sock. Shane then nodded his head towards the man, silent, and two men lurched forward to grab the intruder. The man squealed as they search him, and when he was cleared, they kicked his feet out from under him and pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him to kneel. 

“Whatcha wanna do with him, boss?” Zach piped up from over his shoulder, and Shane had to stop for a moment and think. “He’s just a cherub, can’t be that much of a problem. Take him out back.” And then Shane was smirking as the man kicked, struggling to break free from the iron grip Eugene and Andrew had on him. The mob was silent as they pulled the newly captured man throughout the warehouse. 

And Shane had the pleasure of actually seeing when the man realized what his future held. “You’re not blindfolding me-“ The man gasped, still pulling at his captors, and out of breath. “You’re gonna kill me.” His teary eyes were suddenly on Shane, and the boss had to blink away any guilt or emotion he started feeling. “Well yeah! You broke into my warehouse, cherub. Gotta make an example of you.” The man had a full body shiver at that, deep enough that Shane watched it flow through his body, and a grin split across his face. 

The mob passed through the halls and eventually through plastic curtains, into the meat-packing section of the warehouse. The intruder was tossed into a lone chair hidden away in the back, and Eugene kept a hand around his throat until Andrew was done with the restraints. The two musclemen stepped back and Shane shane nodded to dismiss them, they walked back through the curtains to guard. 

The rest of the crew dispersed behind him, Zach hovering nervously near him. “Um, boss?” His voice broke the stoic silence and Shane had to hold off an eye roll, turning to look at him. “Yes?” There was an edge to his voice even he could hear, and he saw Zach’s adam apple bob as he swallowed any questioning words. “Uh, would you - would you like me to go reset the poker game?” Shane blinked, once, twice, then nodded. “Yeah, sure. that’d be nice. Thanks, Zach.” Shane turned back to the intruder when Zach scurried off, and brought his hands up to crack his knuckles. 

“Alright, cherub, start talking.” Shane began to circle the restrained man, who was pulling at his bonds. “About what? Cuz I’m working on this really cool story-“ The other started, voice rough. Shane cut the man off by stepping around him and swinging, his set of brass knuckles cutting open the other man’s cheek and making him gasp aloud. “Don’t get snarky.” Shane warned, grabbing a fist full of the man’s black hair and yanking his head up. “Who are you?” He snapped, glaring down at the stranger. 

“Bergara - Ryan Bergara.” Ryan spat, narrowing his eyes up at Shane. “Alright, Ryan. Now, how’d you find us?” Shane shoved Ryan’s head down then pulled his hand away, stepping back and once again circling him. “I had to - to be initiated. If I brought them something from your warehouse I’d be accepted.” Ryan panted, trying to cover his tracks to avoid another punch. “Who’s ‘them?’, Bergara?” Shane raised an eyebrow as he passed by the man, eyes locked on the figure slumped in the chair. 

“No.” Ryan mumbled, almost quiet enough that Shane didn’t hear him. “What was that?” The mob boss asked, reaching down once again and yanking Ryan’s head up. “I said, no. I won’t tell you.” Ryan’s jaw was clenched, eyes sharp, and Shane was taken back for a moment. “Really? You’re on the verge of torture and you’re remaining loyal to a gang you’re not even a part of?” Ryan nodded, or tried to, as well as he could with Shane’s grip on his hair. “That’s impressive. Stupid, but impressive.” Shane cracked another grin and threw his second punch, across the other side of Ryan’s face, and almost instantly blood began dripping from Ryan’s nose. He groaned from the pain and choked, spitting out the blood that had started to flow into his mouth. “Just give me their names, Ryan. I’ll let you go.” Shane coaxed, his free hand coming up to wipe the blood from under Ryan’s nose with the edge of his sleeve. “Go fuck yourself.” Ryan hissed, causing more blood to gush from his mouth. Shane dropped his head and stepped back once more, nimble fingers rolling up the sleeves of his white button up. “If that’s how you want to do this, fine.” After that, Ryan felt a blow to the side of his head, and then black. 

Ryan had lost consciousness after a few hours of being beat, voices and sight fading in and out. He was sure he was missing teeth, the simple force of the blows to his head had been too much, and he had more blood in his mouth than he knew was normal. He had, of course, expected this. You don’t break into one of the most notorious mobster’s warehouse without being punished. 

“Wait.” He forced out during one of the times he was conscious. ”I - “ He struggled, tilting his head forward and feeling the blood rush past his lips and fall on the floor. There was a sound of a splash, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He felt fingers thread through his hair again, a hand come up to grip his jaw, nails digging into his skin. “You ready to tell us, cherub?” That was Shane’s voice, soft and patient, and Ryan felt another wave of laughter bubbling up. “No. Just wanted to say that my shirt is dry-clean on-“ He was cut off, again, by the swing and hit of something heavy to the side of his He he let out a scream, that trailed off into an almost hysterical laugh. 

There was a grunt and suddenly his chair was being tilted back, balancing in its back legs, and a washcloth was draped over his face. Ryan began to claw at the chair’s arms, already gasping for breath, even before the water was poured over his face, barely able to hear the chuckling in the background.

When Ryan came to, the next time around, he wasn’t bound to the chair anymore. He ached, all over, and let out little groans as he shifted from laying on his back to sitting up. Through the one good eye he could see, he realized that he was in some sort of cellar room, with a door of bars that was likely locked. There wasn’t a bed or even a bucket, but he could still smell the faint scent of something horrid. It dawned on him that what he was smelling, was death and decay.


	2. Chapter 2

“I say we just toss ‘em. After what you did, he ain’t worth nothin’ to no one.” Jazzmyne pursed her lips as she played her next hand, eyes occasionally wandering up from her cards to quirk an eyebrow at Shane. He was perched up on a wooden cargo box, legs dangling off the side. His fingers were brushing against his 5 o’clock shadow as he scratched at his chin, trying to figure out his next move when it came to Bergara. 

“We could keep him? Leave him at the docks for his “crew” to find. Let them know we caught him.” Andrew chimed in, too focused on the round of poker currently happening to notice Shane dramatically roll his eyes and flop backwards, almost rolling off the crates. “I’m pretty sure they already know we have him. It’s only a matter of time before they want to talk. And they’re not going to come here. Andrew, Eugene, Quinta. You three are coming with me.” He grabbed one of the black fedoras hanging off the coat hook by the entrance and slipped it on, hearing shoes clink against the floorboards as the crew scrambled to assemble behind their boss. 

The market by the docks was quaint, mostly townsfolk trying to make a living. A few courageous stand workers offered samples to Shane, and he took the bite-sized morsels, smiling appreciatively at those who served them. 

Their visit was cut short when Quinta rounded to his front, soft voice barely above a whisper. “2 o’clock.” Shane glanced towards his right and straightened his shoulders, seeing another man with a small army behind him. The other man strolled right up to him, arms wide, and brought him in for a hug. Shane didn’t resist, but his arms stayed at his side. 

“Shane! Ah, it is _so_ good to see you.” Keith said, wide smile plastered on his face. “It certainly has been a while.” Shane forced a short smile back, and glanced behind Keith to see who he had brought on the escapade. “Steven, is it?” Shane asked, noticing a smaller man who stood behind Keith. He stepped forward when he was called, and Shane felt Andrew shuffle where he stood. “It’s good to see you again. You remember Andrew, right?” Shane clasped a hand on Andrew’s back, watching his right-hand man crack a grin towards Steven. “Yeah.” He was quiet, glancing away and clearing his throat before looking back at Andrew. “I’m sure Keith and I can keep it civil. Go have fun you two.” Steven, paused, eyes glued on Keith, who gave a vigorous nod of his head. “Yeah! Go find those tasty pastries and bring me back some.” And off the two went, Andrew’s arm slipping around Steven’s waist almost instantly. 

Keith turned back to Shane and let out a breathy chuckle. “Ordering around my henchmen, Madej?” Shane smiled as Keith’s hand wrapped around his bicep, grip vice-tight, as he led the two, and the additional four henchmen, away from the populated market. “Well, it only seems fair, as you seem confident in sending henchmen to trespass.” Shane caught a glimpse of Keith’s jaw twitching, and pressed on. “Which, of course, doesn’t end well. Honestly, Habersberger, I’m surprised you even kept the charade up. What did he do, egg your little cabin?” Shane taunted, giggling, and Keith paused abruptly, dropping his hand from Shane’s arm and resting it on his hip. “Madej. Just give me back my man. We don’t need to cause a scene.” Keith’s lips were pressed tightly into a smile, face seemingly calm albeit for the scorching stare. 

“What’s the fun in that? Your boy is brave, and loyal. He didn’t crack under any pressure - except for his bones, that is.” Shane’s eyes were sparkling, and he was almost bouncing on his toes. “Why’d you send him to die, Keith?” Keith’s jaw twitched again, and he inhaled sharply before tilting his head. “Well, ya’shee, sometimes it’s best to eliminate a potential threat before they pose any real danger.” Keith’s hand wavered on his hip, drawing his gun and aiming it up in seconds, missing his target as Eugene tackled Shane, tossing him to the ground. Quinta pulled her gun and ducked behind a crate, covering Eugene and Shane as they scramble for their own crates. Ned, one of Keith’s henchmen, had grabbed his boss and yanked him behind a corner, and was currently firing at Quinta. There was a crash of glass before two shadows darted from the corner of her eye, and in a second Andrew was beside her, cocking and aiming his own weapon. 

“What happened?” He gritted our between teeth as they squatted down and reloaded. “It wasn’t an initiation, it was a death sentence.” Quinta mumbled, glancing over at Shane before kneeling back up above the crate to shoot. She was quick to come back down, face pulled into fear, and signalled quickly to fall back. The four did, each covering for one another, and Shane did a parting salute towards the advancing group of new men as they ran back to their own warehouse. 

Ryan had been listening to the soft mumbles of the poker game when there was suddenly a large burst through the warehouse, hollering and whooping and laughter following it. He pressed his face against the bars, placing his ear between two to try and get better sound, but with no luck. Cursing under his breath, he slumped against the dirt wall and began refocusing his breath. Until the door to the room he was in was thrown open, and Shane Madej stood there grinning at him. “Stand up, now, Bergara. I have questions!” Shane rushed over to his cell and fiddled with the lock, pushing open the bars and reaching in to grab Ryan. “I just had the most interesting conversation with Keith and his crew!” He was loud, almost screeching, as he yanked Bergara up the basement stairs and towards their poker room. The crowd who had gathered to watch the final round jumped when Shane burst through the door, with Ryan in tow. He tossed Ryan against the nearest wall and gripped him by the collar, hauling him off the ground. “Start talking.” He growled, eyes narrowing at Ryan as he watched the crowd of people flow out of the poker room. “Don’t look at them, look at me!” Shane shoved him back against the wall, and Ryan winced. His head still hurt from his beating, and Shane’s screaming didn’t help. 

“What? What do you want?” Ryan mumbled, swollen mouth barely able to move. “Why did Keith want you in his familia?” Shane’s grip tightened, and Ryan winced again. “He - he said I was good. Said I was good at killing.” He replied, and Shane’s eyebrows picked up in a funny expression. “You? The guy who got caught stealing? Who’d you kill?” Shane was curious now, no longer nervous about who he was keeping in his basement. “C-Capo Kelsey Darragh.” Ryan stuttered, shutting his eyes in anticipation for the fiery blows he thought was about to rain on him. 

But none came. Instead, Shane gently lowered him to the ground, making sure he was balanced before letting go of his collar. “You killed Kelsey?” Ryan peeked one eye open and saw Shane’s face, a mix between grief and revelation. “Yes.” Ryan’s voice was small, and he watched as Shane staggered back, falling into a chair Andrew had set behind him. “Did...did you kill her crew, too?” He asked, eyes dragging up to meet Ryan’s. “Yeah. I didn’t, uh, mean to, though. I didn’t mean to kill any of them.” Ryan had dropped his head, only looking up again when Shane didn’t reply. 

The man had his head in his hands, shoulders shaking, as Andrew and Eugene made sure to keep their gazes away. “Shane?” Ryan asked tentatively, taking a step forward. It only takes a second for Ryan’s memory to catch up with him, remembering the ‘S.M’ necklace he had looted off a body and traded in for cash.

“Oh god, Shane, I’m sorry.” Ryan whispered, one hand reaching out before Shane grabbed it, yanked it towards him, and had Ryan pinned by the throat on the ground in seconds. “I should have you executed, you degenerate. I should have you skinned and made into a carpet for my office.” Shane hissed between clenched teeth, hands digging into Ryan’s skin. “I should - God, I should kill you here with my own hands.” Shane’s eyes were wild, red with tears, lips quivering as he held back another round of sobs. He squeezed his eyes tightly, seemingly in pain, as he shook his head and pulled back, giving Ryan air again. “No. No, Sara wouldn’t want me to kill you. She’d want me to make sure you suffered.” Ryan scrambled to sit up, hands clawing at his throat as he sucked in as much oxygen as his lungs could handle. 

“No, from now on, you’re part of my crew. You’ll repay your debt with your own life. You belong to Cosa Nostra now, Bergara.” Shane said, trying to calm himself down. He stood, eyes glaring down at Ryan, as he stepped over the man and left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

For the first time in Ryan’s life, he had a place to call his own. It was small and smelled vaguely of vinegar, but Ryan had started to love it nonetheless. It had a single bed, mattress soft, and seemingly new sheets. He ran his hand along the blanket folded on the bed, fingertips almost shaking. It was his own bed. A clean bed. His place of sleeping was no longer just a blanket he had to steal from someone else who didn’t have their own bed. 

It was, of course, rented under Shane’s name. It was part of an apartment complex down the street from the warehouse, and Ryan had been told that he was to get dressed and ready for 0600 hours. He had already changed into a spare set of pyjamas Andrew had, and was just taking a moment to appreciate that he had safe place to stay, before turning out the light and climbing into bed. 

He woke up around 5:30 in the morning, body still aching, and he groaned in protest as he stood up. The swelling in his face had gone down enough that he could shave, trying to ignore how broken his face looked in the dirty bathroom mirror. His knee was fine now, just bruised, but it still hurt like a bitch to slip his jeans on. His upper body was nearly unmarked, except for the few cuts across his chest which were healing, so getting ready the rest of the morning was easy. And at 0600, he stepped outside his apartment and locked it behind him. He had been told to give the key to Andrew, so he turned around to knock on the door across from his, when it opened and Andrew stepped out. He handed his key over and forced a small smile as Andrew began to lead him to the warehouse. 

The two were greeted by Eugene, who began shooting the shit with Andrew, occasionally glancing behind him to make sure Ryan was there. He eventually pushed through a set of doors, leading him into what looked like a dim-lighted white room, shelves lining the wall and miscellaneous boxes around the room. He bit down on his lip, turning to ask what he was supposed to do, but Eugene and Andrew simply started walking away. Not wanting to upset anyone on his first day, he stayed within the room and kept his mouth shut. 

The silence was quickly stopped by Shane’s entrance, and Ryan stood to greet him. “Shane, again, I’m sor - “ Ryan tried, but Shane held up a hand and Ryan fell quiet. “Take a seat, Begara.” Shane’s voice was soft, and as Ryan sat in one of the chairs scattered around the room, Shane rooted through the boxes. He found what he was looking for and walked back over to Ryan, setting down a red container on the table next to him. “A first aid kit?” Ryan asked, genuinely surprised, and Shane’s nose crinkled as he made a face. “Yeah? I’m not gonna let you walk outside like that.” He muttered, opening the kit and searching through it. 

“Thanks.” Ryan said, almost a whisper, as Shane moved his chair closer to Ryan so he could work. The dim light was difficult to work under, and Shane made a noise of disgruntlement before tipping Ryan’s chin up to get better sight on his cheek. “I’m going to have to stitch you up.” Shane said, reaching over to the first aid kit and pulling out a needle in it’s packaging, along with a small bottle of whiskey. “It’s gonna hurt.” He said, uncapping the bottle and taking a swig of whiskey before hovering it near Ryan’s cheek and pouring some out. Ryan hissed as the sting, jaw clenching, and he grabbed the bottle from Shane’s hands to take a drink of his own. He set it down on the table, ignoring Shane’s bemused look, and tilted his head back. Shane had started to unwrap the needle and had already threaded it, and was shifting ever closer to get a good position to start. 

“Alright, here’s goes nothing.” Shane pierced through the skin and Ryan brought his fist up to bite down on his hand, letting out ragged pants as Shane sewed up the wound. He was quick and as gentle as he could be, then finished off by tipping more whiskey down the side of Ryan’s face. It was quiet for a moment as Ryan took a moment to breath, reaching up and running his finger along his jaw to catch the alcohol dripping there. He brought his finger to his mouth, sucking off the whiskey, and glanced up to see Shane’s eyes wide and on him. Ryan paused, watching Shane’s gaze go from his mouth to his eyes, where Ryan was looking at him with a quizzical expression.

“It should heal pretty good, now. I’m just gonna clean up any blood.” The mob boss wasn’t startled, but did seem to be flustered, and Ryan could barely make out the blush that had spread across his face. He smirked, watching Shane dig around the kit for a clean towel. He found one, and a cleansing wipe, and began to work his way across Ryan’s face, other hand holding Ryan’s chin between his fingers. Once the blood had been cleared away, Shane nodded, fingers going up to Ryan’s nose. He gripped the broken nose in one hand and pulled it in the opposite way it had been bent. Ryan gasped, now able to breath through his nose again, and reached to the cleansing wipe to get rid of any blood left in his nostrils. “There. Your eye should go down over the next week, but uh, I’ll have to keep a watch on your cheek.” Shane remained sitting, watching Ryan continue to scrub at his face. “Do you need another one?” He asked, catching Ryan’s grimace at how dirty the wipe had gotten. “Yeah, please.” Ryan slipped off his shirt, not thinking anything of it until he felt Shane’s hot gaze on him. He took the clean wipe and began to clear the bloodied cuts on his chest, trying his hardest not to look up at Shane. He cleared his throat as he set down the wipe and put his shirt back on, waiting for further instruction from the mobster. 

Later in the day, after Ryan had helped the crew members with smaller chores, Shane had sent him out to the market to fetch some food. He had been given a certain amount of cash, counted down to the last nickel, and sent on his way, with no weapons. He didn’t think anything of it, until he was walking back and was jumped. The groceries fell to the ground with a loud clatter, and Ryan had barely been able to squirm out from under his attacker to get into a fight stance. He was ready, fists curled, and when the stranger rushed at him Ryan knocked him off his feet easily. Within minutes, the other man slinked off, defeated and empty-handed. Ryan had gathered up his groceries and made his way back to the warehouse. 

Shane was pissed that he was late, especially since it had started getting dark out. “Really? I give you one chance to prove you won’t run away and you loligag and waste everyone’s time?” Shane snapped, grabbing the groceries from Ryan’s hands and beginning to stick the kitchen within the warehouse. “Actually, I got jumped, but thanks for asking.” Ryan’s voice teetered on mad, but any anger he felt drained when he saw Shane turn to look at him. “Are you okay?” The taller man asked, setting down whatever food he was putting away and coming over to glance Ryan over. “Uh, I’m fine, yeah.” Ryan shifted where he stood, waiting until Shane went back to the groceries to roll his eyes. 

“Why do you care?” The question left Ryan’s lips before he had a chance to stop it. Shane paused, once more, but kept his back to Ryan. “I don’t.” Came the cold reply. Ryan scoffed, walking up behind Shane. “Really? You seem to care a whole lot.” Shane rolled his shoulders, spinning around and staring Ryan down. “I do not care about you. You owe me your life. Your life is the only thing I care about. Do not mistake me for some weak bitch.” Shane pushed past Ryan, leaving the man alone in the kitchen. “Put the rest of the food away!” Shane’s voice was distant, but clear, even as it trailed away. “Fuckin’ Capos.” Ryan muttered under his breath, making his way to the other groceries. 

The rest of the week was tense. Ryan, for the main part, avoided Shane and stuck to doing the henchmen’s chores. He took out his frustration on the bathroom tile, scrubbing until he could see his reflection in the surface. His swelling was getting better, and he was looking more and more like himself as the days went on. It was a relief to know that there was no permanent damage. 

However peaceful the days he didn’t see Shane were, the days where he did were aggravating and often ended with Shane threatening Ryan. It didn’t bug Ryan much, as he took to seeing Shane as an annoying landlord than a mob boss controlling his life. He had caught Eugene and Andrew talking about how distracted Shane seemed, and had to convince himself that he wasn’t the reason for Shane’s off behaviour. 

His gut said otherwise. 

So Ryan waited until his body wasn’t aching and his face wasn’t swollen. He didn’t want to risk getting beat, and having his face only get worse tenfold. He wasn’t sure why he chose one of his nicest shirts to go talk to the mob boss, but he’s sure if he nitpicked his subconscious, he’d come up with something. Maybe, he realized, he didn’t want to come up with something. 

He knocked softly on Shane’s office door, and when called on, entered. The office was one of the few rooms he’d never been in, and he could see why. There was an air of sophistication that wasn’t presented throughout the rest of the rooms. The desk Shane sat behind was red mahogany, paired with two black leather chairs on one side. Shane sat in a similar chair, although his was more of an office chair than a dining chair. 

“Cherub?” Shane seemed surprised, eyebrows drifting upwards as Ryan closed the office door behind him and leaned against it. Shane set down whatever paper and pen he had in his hands, and turned his attention to Ryan. “Did you need something?” Shane moved to stand, but Ryan shook his head, and the other man remained sitting. “No. I just wanted to talk.” Ryan’s voice was soft, not wanting the conversation to carry through the walls. He pushed off the door and walked over to the desk, leaning down to rest his open palms on it. “About?” Shane was smirking now, eyes glinting with a curiosity that reminded Ryan of a cat. The mob boss leaned toward and braced his elbows on the desk, chin in his hands. 

Ryan blinked, now remembering that he didn’t have a plan. He didn’t expect to be able to walk into Shane’s office, let alone end up inches from the man. “Well. Uh, I was thinking that I could keep my apartment key.” It was a shot in the dark, and even Ryan didn’t buy it as the words stumbled out of his mouth. Shane obliviously didn’t believe it either, as he leaned back in his chair and smirked up at Ryan. “Really? That’s all?” Shane narrowed his eyes slightly, and Ryan felt his skin begin to crawl. “Yeah. I think I’ve proved my loyalty. I think I should have control over my sleeping quarters.” Ryan pushed off the desk and shrugged his shoulders, looking like a child who asked for a pony for Christmas. “Fine. Let it is. Is there anything else, Ryan?l Shane asked, bringing up the pen he was previously using to fiddle with. He pulled at his lip with the end, and Ryan knew that it was a trap, but he fell for it anyways. “Uhh, not that I can think of.” He hesitated, distracted by Shane’s lips. Shane grinned, putting the pen back down on the desk and glancing up at Ryan. “Alright then, Bergara. Off you go.” Ryan nodded, tearing his eyes away from Shane’s mouth, and turned quickly, almost dashing out of the office. 

Shane chuckled as he watched the other man leave, kicking back in his chair and putting his shoes up on the desk. He reached for his phone, dialling Keith’s number with one hand. When the opposing mob boss picked up, with a jolly greeting, Shane snickered a little. “Hey Keith. I was wondering how you’re doing.” 

“Well after your little stunt, we had to help clean up the farmers market and rebuild some stands. But it was good for the community!” Keith was in the middle of dealing with his own shit, but he always made time to talk to his fellows mobsters. “Good, that’s good. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be keeping Bergara. I’m...invested, now. He owes me a great debt.” Shane replied over the phone. Keith chuckled at Shane’s words, nodding his head even though Shane couldn’t see him. “I figured once you found out, you’d have him gutted!” Shane laughed, the sound staticky. “He’s a good fighter. Smart. Fast. Figured I’d work him to the bone before I kill ‘em.” Shane mused. “Makes sense to me.” Keith chimed in, chuckling, and the two laughed for a few moments before Shane sighed into the phone. “I’ll talk to ya later, Keith. Stay safe.” He waited until Keith said his goodbye before hanging up, setting the phone back down on to its holder with a clunk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> starting to get a lil gay up in here.

The following day, Ryan had gotten to the warehouse earlier than usual. He usually had to wait until Andrew left, but now that he could keep his own key, he could come and go as he wanted. While he didn’t enjoy scrubbing floors, he did find solitude in the peace that came with it. The mornings seemed perfect for that, as well as an opportunity to really impress Shane. Not that he wanted to impress the mob boss, or wow him, but just to show that he meant business. He had been provided with breakfast and lunch while at the warehouse, as well as snacks and drinks. He assumed Andrew was the chef of the familia, as the man was often caught watching cooking shows, and had remarked on how the market was his favorite area.

So he was surprised to walk into the kitchen and see Shane stirring something in a pan on the stove. “Shane?” He asked, morning voice raspy. The taller man jumped, and grabbed the pistol that was laying on the counter as he turned to see who spoke. He visibly relaxed when he realized it was Ryan, even going as far as to smile. “Morning, cherub.” His voice was his usual brightness, even though it was barely five in the morning. “What’re you doing up so early?” Shane gestured to one of the kitchen table chairs before going back to cooking. Ryan glanced towards the table and noticed that there was already toast and bacon set out. “I, uh, like the quiet.” He mumbled, walking over to the cabinet that kept the plates. He gathered enough for the morning crew, and made his way back to the table. “Huh. Me too.” Shane said, watching as Ryan took a seat at the table and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “You always this tired?” Shane asked, shutting off the burner and moving to serve the scrambled eggs on two plates. Ryan glanced up when the food was dished out, and only then realized that Shane was wearing an apron. He started to giggle, and Shane started to giggle too, the sound of Ryan’s laughter infectious. Shane set the pan down on the counter and grabbed two forks, coming back to the table and taking a seat next to Ryan. 

They ate in silence for a couple minutes before Shane heard Ryan trying to stifle a yawn. He glanced up and saw Ryan almost falling asleep in his chair. He chuckled quietly as he set down his fork and stood, reaching down to loop Ryan’s arm around his neck and help him to his feet. There was a soft sound of protest from the other man before he leaned into Shane, his other hand coming up and gripping Shane’s shirt. The taller man lead him towards the sleeping chambers, making sure to go slow enough that Ryan didn’t trip. He opened the door and Ryan stirred, sleepy eyes landing on one of the beds. He smiled softly before turning and pressing his lips to Shane’s cheek. “Thanks, Shane.” He whispered, then let go of the man and stumbled over to the bed, crawling under the covers and falling asleep in seconds.

The mob boss stood there, eyes wide and cheeks red, as one of his hands drifted to his face and gentle fingertips touched the spot where Ryan had just kissed him. He let out a delayed gasp of shock, bringing his fingerprints around to his mouth and letting them ghost over his lips. He turned an even darker shade of red and turned sharply, making sure that when he left the room, the door closed softly behind him.

“He kissed me!” Shane had hollered when the morning crew finally arrived. They jumped, surprised at the sudden yelling, before they rolled their eyes and went to fill their plates. “Hello? I said, he kissed me!” Shane repeated, hands gesturing in the air. “We heard.” Eugene muttered, taking a seat next to him and beginning to eat. “Did you guys like, make out?” Quinta raised her eyebrows up and down, and Zach, across from her, snorted. “No! I would never. He just…kissed me. Right here!” Shane said, flabbergasted, as he raised his hand and jabbed at his cheek. “Was he drunk or something?” Zach asked between mouthfuls of egg. “He was really tired. I had to take him to bed.” Shane said, not catching his innuendo before the rest of the table did. They burst into laughter, even Eugene cracking a smile, before Shane huffed. “Not like that!” He demanded, and Andrew, at the other end of the table, nodded. “Sure, sure. Actually, I’m pretty sure he was up late. I heard him crying, I think.” He said, casually, before popping a piece of bacon into his mouth. “He was crying?” Shane’s eyebrows furrowed, mouth pursing, before he reached over and stole a piece of Quinta’s toast. “Hey!” She said, smacking Shane on the arm, before he sat back down. “Well, least I know ’m not goin’ easy on ‘em.” Shane mumbled, mouth full of toast.

Hours later, Ryan woke to the sound of fighting. At first, disoriented, he only heard the grunting, and covered his head with his pillow as he flushed. Then, once the sound became more grave and louder, he sat up straight. He rushed to the door, pressing his ear to it, and heard the heavy panting and swings of fists in the air. Ryan peaked out the door, seeing Shane pushing back an attacker, who had his back to Ryan. Shane was too busy dodging the attackers advances and making advances of his own to notice Ryan step out of the room, sneaking behind the attacker and wrapping his arms around the strangers’ neck as quickly as he could. There was a loud choke, the attacker’s hands coming up to scratch at Ryan’s arm, but Ryan kept his grip across the attacker’s neck. 

Shane paused, no longer in action, and waited until there was another choking sound to shake his head. “Let him go, Ryan.” He said, watching the confusion dawn on Ryan’s face. “It’s Chris, one of my soldiers. Drop him.” Shane narrowed his eyes, and Ryan did as told, letting go of the man. He hit the ground with a pained groan, before he glanced up at Ryan. Both of the men paused, both bodies suddenly tense. And Shane noticed. What?” He asked, looking between the two of them. “Chris, Ryan, what is it?” There was an edge to Shane’s voice that was creeping in, and Chris scrambled to stand up, eyes widening as Ryan turned to Shane, taking a deep breath. “He was there. The night I burned down Kelsey’s warehouse.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uH warning for kinda gross gore? it’s pretty gruesome sorry.

The moment was suspended in time. Nobody breathed. Nobody moved. Shane was the first to even blink, normally bright eyes starting to dim slowly. “What?” He asked, awkwardly chuckling. Ryan kept his gaze on Shane, as he glanced between the two men. “He saw me.” Ryan’s voice was shaking, but he stood straight, not looking away from Shane. “You - you saw him?” Shane was smiling, his chuckling turning into a full-blown laugh. “You’re telling me, you watched this punk kill Kelsey, and my fiancee, and you just, what, neglected to tell me?” Chris felt the beads of sweat on his forehead starting to form. “No, Shane, no! God! I would never!” He insisted, but Shane could tell by body language who was lying. “Chris..C’mon, man.” Eventually, Shane’s laughter died out, and he brought his hand up to his mouth, whistling through his two fingers, listening to the sudden footsteps of the crew running towards them.

It was unsettling, seeing Shane on the opposite side of the scenario. His shirt was off, only a muscle tank on, and his face was covered in sweat. He didn’t circle Chris, no, there wasn’t a reason to try and intimidate him. Chris knew Shane, he knew what the other man could do. There was no reason to fight it.   
   
Walking slowly into the room, Ryan flinched when he saw how bad Chris looked. His face, for the most part, seemed fine. Both eyes were swollen and his nose broken, but he wasn’t spitting up blood or having difficulty talking. His chest was black and blue, brass knuckles imprints across his torso. Shane seemed to take focus on his hands and toes, missing six digits between all four appendages. “Did I look like that?” Ryan asked, quietly, eyes jumping back to Shane. “No, you looked better.” Shane cracked his neck, and reached out to grab the cloth in Ryan’s hands. Shane ran it over his face, drying it, then tossed it over his shoulder. Ryan eyed his knuckles, split open and bleeding, and sighed, exasperated. He grabbed one of Shane’s hands, other hand going into his pocket for the tape he brought. He wrapped one of Shane’s hands, then the other, Shane staying silent through it. “There. You, uh, wrap your knuckles to avoid trauma that matches his.” Ryan mumbled, and Shane grinned at him, leaning forward and grabbing Ryan’s face with both hands. “Uh, that being said, you can do whatever you want.” Ryan panicked for a moment, but settled when he realized Shane wasn’t going to hit him, or kiss him.   
   
“No, you’re right. But you should do this.” Shane said, and the air in the room was suddenly thick. Shane pulled away, slipping a hunting knife from under his waistband, and flipped it over to hand it, handle first, to Ryan. “Cut him stem to sternum for me.” Ryan stared at the knife, hands starting to shake, and glanced at Chris. He struggled against the ropes, breathing hard. “No! Shane! Who you gonna trust?! Me, or this fuck?!” Chris was loud, gritting his teeth as he thrashed in the chair. “You were my friend for 3 years, Chris! And now you betray me? You betray us, your family, your God? You’re lucky the Don doesn’t come here himself.” Shane hissed, fists clenching at his side. “What would he think, huh, Shane? If he knew Kelsey’s murderer was under your wing?” Chris barked, leaning forward against the rope across his chest. “He’d have you tortured for weeks! Starved, drowned, brought back just for more.” Chris spit at Shane’s feet, lips pulling up into a snarl. Shane shook his head, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Ryan! Kill him before I do.” Shane growled, once again opening his hand and presenting the knife to Ryan.  
   
Ryan grabbed the knife, and felt the weight in his hand. “I just - I gut him?” Ryan asked, looking at Shane for reassurance. The mobster nodded, smiling wickedly, as he stepped back to give Ryan room. Ryan took a breath, then another, then walked forward until he was in front of Chris. He leaned down and grabbed one of his shoulders, ignoring Chris’ pleas and screams. He hesitated, taking a breath before his arm shot forward. Ryan heard the knife pierce Chris’ flesh, and let out a sharp exhale as the begging from Chris turned into gurgles as blood began to spill from his mouth. Ryan dragged the knife upwards, feeling hot blood splash across his own body, as he continued to pull the blade higher, eventually hitting the chest bone. He let go of the knife, and dropped his hand back down to Chris’ stomach, reaching in and pulling out whatever organ his hand settled on first. He stuck his hand back inside of Chris, gripping another organ and yanking, feeling the muscle give under his hand as he tugged it out. The gurgling, choking sounds from Chris were getting softer, and he was still now.  
   
Ryan staggered back, his cleaner hand coming up to cover his mouth as his stomach threatened to empty itself. He dropped to his knees, eyes tight as could be, in fear of really seeing what he had done. One of Shane’s hands dropped to Ryan’s shoulder and gripped tightly, long fingers digging in. “Ryan, repeat after me.” He said, and Ryan moved his hand away from his mouth. “I, Ryan Bergara.” Shane started. “I, Ryan Bergara.” He echoed, gagging slightly as the smell of fresh death hit him. “Make an oath and omertà.” Shane continued, voice steady. “Make an oath and omertà.” Ryan repeated, forcing himself to stand on shaky legs. “To live and die for my brothers, my Capo, and my Godfather.” Shane said, and Ryan finally opened his eyes, eyes watering as he stared at the corpse in front of him. “To live and die for my brothers, my Capo, and my Godfather.” Ryan’s voice shook, turning away from Chris. The other members of the crew had their heads bowed, silent, and Ryan gasped sharply, as what he was saying finally sunk in. “And I will honour Cosa Nostra with my last dying breath.” Shane whispered, his other hand settling on Ryan’s shoulder, turning Ryan towards him. “And I will honour Cosa Nostra...with my last dying breath.”


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan’s training started the next day. He was quick on his feet, but impulsive. When he saw a chance to hit Shane, he leapt for it, but Shane always had a trick up his sleeve that had Ryan losing every round.  
   
They had been at it for a few hours, only stopping to hydrate and eat lunch. Shane was insistent on Ryan learning the basics of hand-to-hand combat, as mafia business wasn’t all guns and knives. Ryan’s body ached, and his knee popped whenever he had to crouch, but he fought through wave after wave of sweat to show Shane he was serious.  
   
And Shane was impressed. Ryan was picking up on Shane’s routine, of letting Ryan come at him, pin him, then flip their positions so Shane would have him down. It started out innocently enough. Shane would count to 3, as Ryan struggled, and the point would go to the taller man. That was all it was. A training session.  
   
But there was still tension between them from the sleepy mistaken kiss. There was no mention of it. It lingered on the back of Shane’s mind, always there, whether he was cooking breakfast or having a shower. He was conflicted about it, and about Ryan. He had killed Sara, after all. Shane felt a surge of anger work its way through his body, fist narrowly avoided Ryan’s face as his blow landed next to him, knuckles hitting mat. Ryan stared up at him, shocked, and wiggled his way out from under Shane. He sat to the side, watching the other man carefully, as Shane sat back on his haunches and held his fist to his chest.  
   
“I think that’s all for today.” Shane said quietly, eyes kept down on the mat instead of meeting Ryan’s gaze. “Alright. Um, do you - “ Ryan started, shutting his mouth and glancing away from Shane as the taller man stood up and walked out of the room without a word. Ryan sat for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip, as he tried to work through the sting of being ignored. It took another moment for him to recognize that he didn’t want to be ignored, especially by Shane.  
   
-  
   
_Ryan paused, back against the wall. He was shaking, the hand that was gripping the knife was pressed to his chest, tip of the blade occasionally catching on his shirt. The voices that roamed in the room next to him were staying still, laughter and giggles drifting through the wall. The archway to his right was an ever-looming threat, something that promised death if anyone was to walk through it._  
   
_There was a loud gunshot, then screams. He stayed where he was, ears open for any additional noise. The women in the other room were firing back at someone, likely whoever shot the first bullet, and Kelsey, Ryan knew, was barking orders at her crew. “Sara! Fall back!” She snapped, Ryan immediately biting his lip as he pressed himself tighter to the wall. Sara, Ryan assumed, walked backwards into the room, gun in the air, and Ryan took the chance to grab the weapon and toss her down. He brought his knee down on the arm with the weapon in hand, and he pressed his knife to her throat. She kept her mouth shut, eyes narrowed as she struggled against him. “Stay down. I won’t hurt anyone, I just want to get out of here alive.” He whispered harshly, then climbed off of her and snuck back to the archway._  
   
-  
   
Ryan made sure he was busy for the rest of the day. His mind and body hurt, but he grit his teeth and pushed through it. He couldn’t grip why he didn’t want Shane to ignore him. Or maybe he could, and just didn’t want to accept it. Anytime a thought like that would drift past, he would restart whatever he was doing, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of thinking about Shane.  
   
-  
   
_He was quiet as he snuck through the suddenly empty warehouse. Ryan wasn’t sure where everyone had disappeared to, but he tried to be as silent as he could be. He heard a shuffling sound and jumped around the corner, bringing his knife up to stab the source of the noise. It was a pipe, and Ryan yanked his hand back as hot steam began shooting out of the hole that was now there. He hissed, gripping his burnt hand, as he started to creep past rooms. A hand pulled him into a closet, cloth going over his mouth. He was turned, only to be face-to-face with Sara, who was pale and sweaty. “Shut up, now.” She whispered, and Ryan nodded, taking a soft breath when she removed the cloth. “Someone is still out there.” She said, eyes darting between Ryan and the door._  
   
_”Do you know who it is?” Ryan asked, and Sara bit her lip, staring at Ryan suspiciously. “I might.” She trailed off, face pulling back into fear as the floorboards outside creaked. Ryan stayed mute, turning so his back was to Sara, and he was blocking her. The floorboards once again were silent as footsteps made their way past the closet. Ryan turned back to Sara, seeing her grip her necklace tightly, but unable to see what pendant she was holding. “It’ll be okay.” Ryan mumbled, taking one of Sara’s hands and leading her out into the hallway._  
   
-  
   
“Hey, Ryan?” Eugene poked his head into the bathroom. Ryan set the toothbrush down and looked up, pulling down the hospital mask that covered his mouth. “Yeah?” Ryan asked, gloved hands resting on his knees. “Are you okay? You’ve been, uh, scrubbing the floor for a few hours.” Eugene winced, glancing down at the floor, which was sparkling with more than one coat of wax. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Ryan narrowed his eyes at Eugene, wondering if it was a set up by Shane, then looked back down at the floor when he realized how ridiculous he sounded. “Uh, because you and Boss were wrestling? And like, sweaty?” Besides how uncomfortable Eugene seemed, there was also a hint of genuine concern in his voice. Ryan remained quiet, not wanting to give Eugene any ideas. “I know about the kiss. I get it. It’s weird, and complicated.” Eugene glanced around, trying to avoid staring at Ryan as he brought up the situation. 

__

__

-

_Ryan ducked as the barrel of a gun peaked around the corner. Sara wasn’t fast enough, shrieking as she went down. Ryan darted into another room, heart racing, as he heard the gunman reload. He took off one of his shoes and threw it through the connecting doorway, shrinking away as the shooter ran through the room, missing Ryan, and down the other hallway. Ryan stepped out and ran back to Sara, who was clutching her shoulder as she sobbed._

_“Behind you!” Sarah yelled, just in time for Ryan to glance over his shoulder to see the man walk down the hallway, gun up. Ryan stood, and in a split second, he pulled Sara’s own gun on the madman, pulling the trigger. The other armed man ducked, revealing the stream of hissing gas behind him._

-

“I just...I can’t think ssstraight.” Shane slurred, staring down into his empty glass. “Around him. About him.” He sniffed, leaning back in his chair and pouring himself another two fingers of whiskey. “I know.” Eugene nodded, finishing his drink with one gulp. “I...forget he killed her. It sounds bad, reaaally bad, but sometimes, I look at him, and I just forget.”

_

_He had grabbed Sara’s hand._

_Then the explosion went off._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soooO warning,,they don’t fuck, they just dry-hump?? have fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so im going on spring break to mexico, which means about a week without an update! figured i’d put some porn in here before leaving y’all to dry

_It wasn’t the best thing in the world, waking up to the smell of charred flesh. Ryan coughed, throat and mouth dry, and he rolled over on his side. He heard a loud groan, and a sob, and started to panic, only to realize that the sounds were coming from him. His eyes were ringing, a defeating sound that almost made him want to black out again._

_He pried open his eyes and tried to reach up to rub his eyes, only one hand coming up. Ryan glanced down at his left side, gasping when he saw how broken his arm was. He forced himself to sit up, body protesting, and when an echoing shout was heard, he knew it was his. The warehouse was on fire, and slowly, as his hearing returned to normal, he could make out blood-curdling screams coming from within. He looked around, and when he saw the charred hand next to him, he leaned forward and threw up everything in his stomach._

_He sobbed harder, choking on ash and vomit, and forced himself to look back to the hand that lay next to him. It was curled around something that glimmered in the light from the flames, and using his good hand, he reached over and pulled a necklace from the fingers._

-

Ryan sat up straight in bed, suffocating for air as he woke up. His t-shirt was soaked in sweat, and the bedding on his cot was tossed on the floor, even the fitted sheet was pulled up. His breath didn’t come easily, tears springing to his eyes as his chest started to burn. His hands scratched at his throat, praying that he would recover from his panic attack before Andrew heard him. 

It wasn’t Andrew who came knocking. In fact, there was no knocking at all. Shane simply unlocked his door, tired eyes squinting at Ryan in the dark, before he heard one of Ryan’s sobs and dashed over, suddenly alert. 

“Ryan, Ryan, hey.” Shane said, taking a seat on the bed, next to Ryan’s feet. One hand hovered awkwardly above Ryan’s shoulder, eyes wild as he tried to figure out what to do. “It’s okay, just breathe, you’ll be okay, it was just a nightmare.” Shane reassured, lips pulled down into a worried grimace. “Cup your hands around your mouth, okay? Breathe.” He said, and Ryan obeyed, hands coming up to cup around his mouth and nose, gaze locked on Shane. 

Eventually, Ryan caught his breath, and he stopped rocking back and forth, dropping his hands to his lap. He glanced down, away from Shane, and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, if Andrew called you.” Ryan mumbled, and was surprised to feel Shane take his hand gently, pulling him towards the taller man. Shane tugged him further, out of his sitting position, and shifted until Ryan was curled next to him. “It’s okay.” Shane said, laying down and taking Ryan with him. 

Shane rested on his side, one arm under his head, and the other across Ryan’s hip. Ryan sighed, letting his eyes close as he moved to his own side. He felt Shane’s breath on his neck, and he bit his cheek, trying not to squirm. 

“What freaked you out?” Shane whispered, sending his hot breath over Ryan’s ear. The smaller man pressed his thighs tighter together, willing himself to remain normal, until the morning at least. Ryan stayed silent, but his eyes opened, and he shifted to his back to look up at Shane. “It was the fire.” His voice was quiet, watching Shane’s face. Shane frowned, but he didn’t break the eye contact with Ryan. “Why?” Shane asked, and Ryan had to steel himself when the other man’s voice cracked. “I...I don’t know.” Ryan said, turning his head away, but felt Shane’s fingers grip his chin and pull Ryan’s face back to him. 

“Did you kill them?” Shane’s question was fiery, fully loaded, and Ryan took a deep breath before answering. “I caused the explosion.” It was the truth, and Ryan felt another wave of tears approach. “Did you kill them? With your bare hands? Did you...Did you kill her?” Another fully loaded question. The hand on Ryan’s hip began to squeeze, and Ryan wiggled in Shane’s hold. “N-no. I...I shot a gas line. By mistake.” The answer hung heavily in the air, and Ryan held his breath as Shane lowered his head, resting softly against Ryan’s neck. 

He didn’t realize Shane was crying until he felt his tears began to soak the pillow case beneath them. “Shane?” He asked softly, his hand going up to gently touch the other man’s neck. Shane laid more on his front, leaning on Ryan as the hand on Ryan’s hip gripped tighter, shaking with every silent cry. “It’s okay, Shane.” Ryan whispered, his hand stroking the back of Shane’s neck, trying to offer as much comfort as he could. 

They fell asleep sometime after that, curled around each other.

When morning came, Ryan was the first to wake. He was barely conscious, before he felt another breath drift across his neck. Ryan shivered, lip trapped between his teeth, as one of his hands settled over his groin and prayed to stay soft. Shane didn’t make it easy, though, continuing the onslaught of hot exhales against Ryan’s bare skin. 

Ryan shifted, rolling his hips, gasping quietly at the friction from his pyjama pants. He pressed his hand against himself, through the fabric, and shoved his face into the pillow to muffle the moan he had let go. Shane moved, then, his arm pulling Ryan back against him. Shane’s head was near Ryan’s ear now, and the smaller man had to bite his lip to stop from moaning again when he felt Shane’s lips brush against his ear, mumbling something indistinctively. Ryan paused, sure Shane was awake, and when the other man didn’t move, he let out a soft sigh of relief. 

He was hard now, running his hand against his length over his pants, holding back whimpers as his climax approached. If Shane woke up, Ryan realized with a start, he’d be dead. 

Shane moved again, his hips bucking forward, and Ryan inhaled sharply when he felt the weight of something hard against his backside. He was even more sure that Shane was awake then. But there was no other indication that he was alert, so Ryan, emboldened by his arousal, pressed back against Shane’s hips. 

Ryan let out a shaky exhale as he began to rock himself against Shane’s morning wood, his own hand slipping into his pants and touching himself bare. He whined at the contact, eyes rolling back in his head. His thrusts were either met with Shane’s hardness, or his own hand, trapping him in paradise. 

Shane, of course, was awake. He had woken up before Ryan, content to watch him sleep. But when he noticed the reaction Ryan had to his heavy breath, how could he miss the opportunity to mess with him? 

It had not gone the way Shane had planned, but he was definitely not protesting. Sure, he couldn’t move or moan, and had to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood, but the little sounds Ryan was letting out were driving Shane mad. 

Eventually, lost in the throes of pleasure, Shane couldn’t stand not to move, his hand going to grip Ryan’s hip as he rutted forward, groaning against Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan let out a gasp of surprise, which trailed off to a loud moan as Shane pulled him back tighter against him. Shane pressed quick kisses to Ryan’s skin as he finished, wide eyes watching as Ryan brought himself to climax, letting out a high-pitched whimper as he released. 

Both men lay panting for a moment, pyjama pants now soiled. Ryan moved first, slipping out of under Shane’s arm and wandering towards the bathroom without a backwards glance. Shane pushed back his hair, breathing sharply through his nose, as what just happened settled over them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m back from mexico!!! updates will be a lot more frequent now thank u all

Ryan was expecting two things to happen when he came back out of the bathroom. He would be shot, or, Shane would be smiling at him from the bed. He had hoped for the latter, even going so far as to touch up his hair before stepping back into the loft. His heart fell when Shane was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed and slightly hurt, he went over to the bed and began tearing off the dirty bedsheets. 

Shane had stumbled down the street to the warehouse. It was early in the morning, sun just starting to rise, and he had felt ashamed to be even stepping outside in such a messy manner. Last night, under the hood of darkness, he had not cared about his bare feet or scrunched hair. But here, with families beginning to wake up and open their windows, he was flushed head to toe. 

He had gotten to the warehouse just as Andrew was leaving, probably relieved of his night shift duties. The two men paused, Andrew raising his eyebrows at the state of his boss, before he turned around to call out the the remaining crew. “Eugene and Zach owe me $20!” He hollered, glancing back at Shane and giving a polite nod, then disappeared outside. 

Shane had walked awkward through the main room, keeping his eyes on the ground, as he felt every pair of eyes on him. He walked through the halls until he reached the showers, turning on the water. He winced as he undressed, the mess in his pants only making him flush harder. 

After his shower, he felt significantly better. He had stood in the hot water for a few minutes, trying to process the sudden complexity of the situation, before he gave up trying to make a plan. 

He dressed, and walked back to the living area, where his crew was waiting. “$20? For what?” Shane asked, ignoring the silence afterwards. “Uh, we bet that you guys would, y’know, sleep together.” Jazzmyne said, watching as Shane sat down in one of the larger chairs, head hanging heavily. 

“Boss, c’mon.” Eugene said, reclining back in his current seat. “You know we don’t really care, right?” He mused, and Zach, beside him, slapped his arm. “He doesn’t mean it like that! We care, Shane, just...not about who you sleep with.” Zach trailed off, flushing slightly when Eugene turned to give him a nod. 

“Besides, he’s really cute.” Jen mentioned, swallowing her mouthful of breakfast she had. Shane wrinkled his nose at her, making a face. “No, he isn’t. He’s annoying, and weird, AND he killed your fiancée,” Eugene scoffed, and Shane began chewing the inside of his cheek. “He didn’t actually kill Sara. Or Kelsey, or any of them for that matter.” 

It was silent for a moment, before Jazzmyne sat up straighter and stared him down. “So? What happened?” She asked, curious, and Shane felt a familiar pain begin to climb its way up his chest. His throat tightened, feeling all eyes on him. “There was a guy, at the warehouse, who tried gunning them all down. Ryan tried to protect Sara, missed his mark, and shot a pipe.” He mumbled, keeping his head down, as he tried to keep tears from flowing.

“Shane, dude, I’m sorry.” Jen said, and there was a chorus of ‘me too’ from the crew. He waved them off, forcing out a chuckle as he stood up and rushed to turn his back to the group. “It’s okay. She wasn’t - he didn’t torture her or anything, so.” He swallowed any other words or emotions, tasting blood as he realized he hadn’t stopped chewing his cheek. 

Ryan got to the warehouse a little later than he was allowed, but he had lost any fucks that he had started with. He didn’t want to put a label on what he was feeling, almost afraid of the implication behind the label, but he wasn’t in a good mood. So when Eugene had greeted him at the doors, angry at his tardiness, he shoved past the other man without a word. His plan was to get to work and not talk to anyone all day, but it was quickly ruined by Eugene grabbing his arm and hauling him against the wall. 

“What the hell is your deal? You think you can just show up late and it’s fine and dandy? In case you forgot, you’re not some worker here, dude.” Eugene said, narrowing his eyes at Ryan, who glared back. They glanced up when they heard the door opening, gazes landing on Shane, who simply blinked at them and turned back around. Ryan felt his stomach lurch, eyes locked on the door even after Shane had left. Eugene stayed silent for a moment before he dropped Ryan. “Sorry.” Eugene mumbled, and when Ryan glanced at him, there was pity in his eyes. So, in a completely logical move, Ryan leaned forward and spit in Eugene’s face, turning sharply and marching down the hall. 

Ryan was left alone for the day, which was totally fine by him. He had a new role that day, which was to clean the artillery. He wasn’t in the room for ten seconds before someone stepped in. “Leaving you alone with all the guns would be dangerous.” Jazzmyne mused, taking a seat and crossing her arms as she stared down Ryan. He kept her gaze before going back to wiping the pistol he was working on. “So, you and Shane.” She said, and Ryan paused, then took a deep breath and refocused on the task in front of him. “You can’t expect any different from him, yknow. Him and Sara were together for years, he’s still grieving.” Jazzmyne said, voice heavy as she tried to get her point across. “And you come in and totally change up his life. How is he supposed to deal with this? The Don is breathing down his neck about you and you two are out cahooting in the middle of the night.” 

Ryan might’ve tried to seem busy, but he was listening, evident by the fact he was just wiping the barrel over and over again. “You must be out of your god damn mind if you think it’s as simple as you two running away together.” She quirked an eyebrow when Ryan glanced at her, and he shifted under her gaze. “I know it’s not that simple. But now he’s acting all weird and fishy.” Ryan mumbled, and watched as Jazzmyne dramatically rolled her eyes. “Did you want heart eyes and a ring?” She sassed, and Ryan cracked a smile, laughing almost. “No. I just...didn’t expect for him to disappear afterwards. I didn’t want cuddles or anything, but a few words might’ve been nice.” He replied, and Jazzmyne nodded, understanding. “Well, it’s never too late for a few words.”

Shane’s breathing was uneven, fingers gripping the phone tightly. “No, Don.” He mumbled. The person on the other line asked another question, voice quiet, almost soft enough that Shane didn’t hear it. “Don, please, I promise-“ Shane cut himself off, biting down hard on his lip to stop any noise from escaping. “Okay.” He said in response to the voice on the other side. “I’ll see you soon.” Shane hung up the phone, letting out a heavy exhale, and hung his head in his hands. “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, but peeled up at the sound of a knock on his office door. “Yeah?” He called out, back straightening and then slumping again when Ryan walked in. 

“Uh, hey, so, I wanted to talk to you about this morning-“ Ryan started, and Shane ended whatever he was about to say with a wave of his hand. “No. There’s nothing to talk about.” The mob boss said, and Ryan pulled a face. “Really? ‘Cause I think there is.” Ryan walked further into the office, and Shane bolted up and out of his chair to stroll up to the man. “If we talk about it, I - I won’t be able to focus on talking.” Shane murmured, and Ryan felt a blush began to creep its way up his face. “Oh.” He said, eyeing Shane and noticing he was pale and shaky. “Are you okay?” Ryan asked, confused, and then turned concerned when Shane shook his head. “The Don called. A visit is being arranged in the next few days.” Shane whispered, leaning back against his desk for support. “Okay, and?” Ryan pushed, and Shane took another deep breath. “So, if he finds out about you existing, let alone you and I, he’ll want you dead.” Shane said, and Ryan blinked a few times before clearing his throat. “And why are you suddenly being all crazy over that?” Ryan asked, stepping up in front of Shane, and taking Shane’s face in his hands, making the other man lock eyes with him. “Because I don’t want you dead, idiot.” Shane hissed, eyes watering, and Ryan gasped a little, taking a second before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against Shane’s lips.

The kiss was gentle at first, Shane’s hands moving to Ryan’s hips. His grip was light, almost scared to touch Ryan. Ryan pulled away, kissing the corners of Shane’s mouth. “Okay, so we don’t let the Don find out who I am. Or about us.” Ryan whispered, voice quiet when he saw Shane’s eyes were squeezed shut, choking on his breath. “Shane, hey, it’s okay.” Ryan reassured him, hands traveling along the other man’s arms and shoulders. He leaned forward again and rested his head in the crook of Shane’s neck, feeling the mob boss reach up and wrap his arms around Ryan’s waist. “We need a plan.” Shane said, hushed, and Ryan nodded as well as he could, face still resting against Shane’s skin. “We need a plan.” He echoed, hands suddenly clasped by Shane’s.


End file.
